Like a glistening magic candle
I spray wit with silver sparkle
which may wreck you brain
with numbers, words and symbols.
To swiftly disentangle is the challenge
posed to you by my creator
to win the final golden prize.

Greatness was my future destine,
mine and only mine out of the many:
a shining rise with flaming hair,
warm and full of meaning.
But, oh, sudden was the fall!
Burnt out downwards from the head
I only lie here as a haggard worm.

Left against right on black and white:
I am a tonal game of chess
and your hands are the players.
Resoundingly the battle beats
and tones swirl agitatedly
in intricately woven rhythms
to shape a greater symphony.